By Erik Skye

22 Jul 2011

Mots du jour:  tu (you), mon (my), ami (friend)

‘It’s raining, let’s stop for another beer!’ I called out. ‘No, the Louvre!’ Ceren yelled back. A few minutes later I cried ‘Legay Choc; I want some pastry!’ ‘No, the Louvre!’ Ceren yelled back again. She was racing through the streets of Paris on her green antique bicycle, which she had purchased the day I arrived in Paris a few weeks ago. Ceren is so proud of her bicycle. I was following in hot pursuit, on a rent-a-bike and enjoying every second of it immensely.

We finally reached our destination, and as we stood in the long line I asked Ceren if the Louvre had a WC (water closet). I got a nice smile. I asked for more beer and received a pinch in the side, a ‘you’re so stupid’ comment, and a prohibition to not drink again before 6:00 pm. Surprisingly, after we finally received our admission, I actually did find beer in the Louvre, at a concession stand. Even though it was only 4:30 pm, I indulged (justifying it to Ceren by saying I needed to calm my nerves before seeing Mona Lisa).

I wasn’t taking the Louvre seriously.

The Louvre’s okay. It’s full of tourists checking off another item on their bucket list. Maybe that’s why I was here too, to say I saw Mona Lisa. However, when I saw her, all I seemed to care about was snapping a photo trophy. I never even stopped long enough to consider her smile.

What I was really enjoying was my time with Ceren.

I suppose there was one painting at the Louvre that meant something to me. It’s the one that was on the cover of a book I read once – Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace. I had stared at the cover often, scouring every detail, imagining what it must have been like to be there, as it was the only illustration for the 1000 page manuscript that I spent months with. Now, here was the cover staring back at me. 

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